


Ares: Father of the Year

by DeliaIsNotMyName



Category: Dark Avengers (Comic)
Genre: Banter, Daken being jealous, Father issues, Gen, Grant Morrison-style Noh-Varr, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-19 20:49:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeliaIsNotMyName/pseuds/DeliaIsNotMyName
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're kidding me. He works for a lunatic like Norman Osborne, he's the fucking God of War, and he's doing domestic shit like putting his kid's pictures up in the communal kitchen?"</p><p>"You know how proud papas are," Mac said. "Oh, wait, I guess you don't."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ares: Father of the Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tangerine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine/gifts).



It was a sunny, beautiful day in New York city, the kind of day where even the criminals decided that it was better to take the day off, and relax in the park. That meant, though, that there wasn't much to do for a certain few psychopathic individuals in a certain famous tower in the middle of Manhattan, who had to content themselves with waiting around and getting on each other's nerves until a certain Norman Osbourne got back to them with some task to keep them busy. Daken thought that maybe he would go get some tea, maybe harass Lester, or flirt with Karla, but instead he went to the kitchen to make sure no one had eaten his leftover burrito from last night.

"What the hell is this?" Daken, usually so good at keeping his cool and showing the world whatever side of him he chose to let him see, couldn't keep the disgust out of his voice.

"I believe it is what you Earthlings call art," Noh-Varr said, not even looking up from the television set. "It's rather rudimentary, although I wouldn't expect any more from a dimension as primitive as this one."

"It's kid's art," Mac added, from where he was slobbering over some raw steak at the kitchen table. "You know, kid brings home shitty crayon drawing, shows it to mom and dad, proud parents put the horse crap on the refrigerator so anyone who comes into their kitchen has to see it. What, Romulus never had you fingerpainting for your old man in those lessons he gave you?"

"No," Daken said with a snarl, staring at the picture that was hanging from an Africa-shaped magnet on the cool silver steel door of the refrigerator. It was some crayon thing, where a huge human-shaped blob with an axe was charging into battle, and a little blond stick figure was sitting on his shoulders. "You're kidding me. He works for a lunatic like Norman Osborne, he's the fucking God of War, and he's doing domestic shit like putting his kid's pictures up in the communal kitchen?"

"You know how proud papas are," Mac said. "Oh, wait, I guess you don't."

It was enough to make Daken feel sick. He ran the picture through with his claws, leaving it in shards on the floor, and left to go back to his room.

It's not like he cared, Daken told himself, once he was laying down in his bed, and feeling a little bit more calm. It was good that Ares had a kid that he cared for, because it was one more weakness, one more thing to use against him. Besides, Ares was a bloodthirsty maniac from a family that was full of dysfunction, so his relationship with his son couldn't be all that great. His son wasn't even with him now, ran away with Nick Fury of all people, so they probably weren't on good terms at all. The thought made Daken feel a little bit better, but then later that day he found Ares in one of the communal areas, an xbox controller in his comically large hands, Call of Duty playing on the television.

"This infernal game is but a mockery of true war," Ares bellowed, his voice like thunder through the small room. "If only I could show these fools what real war looks like, I would make them weep for knowing it."

Daken blinked at the information on the screen. "Aren't you only saying that because you're losing? What the hell are you doing playing Call of Duty, anyway?"

"It is the only time I have to spend with Alexander," Ares replied. "The boy will not tell me where he is, but he still makes his appearance in these frivolous simulations from time to time, where we can fight side by side, as we shall no doubt do on a real battleground in the future."

"You know I'm going to tell Osborne about this," Daken said, already getting pissed off a little bit. "See if we can't track down Fury and the kid through the game."

Ares smiled in pride. "You can try, but my boy is too intelligent to be found so simply."

Daken felt irrationally upset over Ares' reaction. He wanted to punch the pride off of Ares' face, but he wasn't stupid enough to take on the God of War in a one on one fist fight, and he wasn't in the mood for his usual manipulations. So, instead, he stomped off to go get a cup of tea at his favorite Japanese tea house, hoping it would calm him down.

But it just wasn't fair. Daken hated feeling like a petulant child, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't fair. Ares was a psychotic, bloodthirsty murderer, but he also might have been father of the fucking year for all he doted on Alexander. How come his son got to have a good relationship with him, even though they were on opposite sides? And here Daken was, his father a fucking hero to the world, not that he ever lifted a finger to try to be anything close to a good dad. . .

But Daken felt sick of himself for thinking about that. Yeah, sometimes he thought about how maybe things would have turned out different for him if his old man had been there to raise him instead of Romulus and the sadistic handlers he got to train Daken. Maybe he thought about it a little too much. But that was a moot point, anyway, because it was too late, and he was his own man now. He wasn't going to let himself be defined by his father and their relationship.

The tea helped. And then, on the way back to the tower afterwards, Daken smiled as he caught sight of a familiar little blond pre-adolescent. He recognized the kid from the dossier Osbourne kept on Ares, and started to think about all he could do to mess with Alex, and Ares, and their perfect little father and son relationship. But then he frowned to see the Alex, occupied with looking down at his iPhone, was walking right into traffic and an oncoming car. Before Daken even realized what he was doing, he had darted forward, knocking Alex to the ground, and into safety.

"What the fuck?" The kid said, and obviously Ares and Fury were not teaching him manners.

Daken burned with anger. At Alex for being such a lucky bastard, at himself for saving the little prick's life. What the hell had he been thinking? "Don't you fucking dare tell anyone I did this."

He pushed himself off Alex and the ground, and started to walk away, but not before hearing a "and who the fuck are you" from the annoying pre-teen.

He really needed some more tea.


End file.
